


(it’s not a) shame that you came here with someone

by flyingthesky



Category: One Direction (Band), Union J (Band)
Genre: (if you're really militant about "drunk people can't consent"), Accidental Relationship, Acephobia, Alcohol, Blow Jobs, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-24
Updated: 2013-02-24
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:08:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21564271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flyingthesky/pseuds/flyingthesky
Summary: “What do I have to lament?” Louis actually has a lot to lament, and he suspects that Josh knows it if the look he gives is any indication. Josh pushes Louis’ shots closer, and Louis picks one up but does not drink it.“You know what you have to lament. You don’t want me to say that shit out loud,” Josh says. He tosses his head back and drains one of the shots, and Louis waits a second before mirroring the motion.
Relationships: Josh Cuthbert/Louis Tomlinson





	(it’s not a) shame that you came here with someone

If Louis was going to try and figure out how he ended up in bed with Josh Cuthbert, he'd probably have to start with the time that he kissed Harry and Harry had pushed him away very gently as he said _if you're only doing this to get in my pants, you should really stop now_. At the time, Louis hadn't really anticipated how much those words were going to define the rest of his fucking life, but Louis also hadn't the foggiest idea what the word _asexuality_ meant so. He can't really be blamed for merely thinking that Harry was kind of a prude instead of fully grasping what Harry meant.

So, it kind of starts there. More accurately, it starts when One Direction and Union J are at a party together and Louis is staring sadly out at Harry and George grinding up on each other without a care in the world and Josh slides into the seat next to Louis. The first thing Josh does is steal Louis' drink and drain it.

The second thing Josh does is say: "You'd better save your bandmate from mine. He doesn't put out on first dates."

There's a long moment where Louis just stares at Josh, who appears to be drunk enough that he doesn't mind. Then Louis goes back to staring at Harry, who's whispering in George's ear. His face is pressed in close, and if it were anyone but Harry, Louis would say he's trying to get George to go home with him. Because it's Harry, though, Louis knows it's nothing of the sort.

"You owe me a drink," Louis says, turning back toward Josh. "Also if anything, I should be saving your bandmate from mine. Mine doesn't put out _ever_."

Josh flags down someone with a tray of shots, and takes the whole tray off their hands. He splits them up between the two of them and when Louis raises an eyebrow, Josh snorts.

"George is a- _asexual_ ," Josh says. It appears to take him a significant amount of effort to get the word to come out without being extremely slurred, and Louis vaguely wonders if he should be letting him drink at all. "So we're going to get really smashed and lament our situations."

"What do I have to lament?" Louis actually has a lot to lament, and he suspects that Josh knows it if the look he gives is any indication. Josh pushes Louis' shots closer, and Louis picks one up but does not drink it.

"You know what you have to lament. You don't want me to say that shit out loud," Josh says. He tosses his head back and drains one of the shots, and Louis waits a second before mirroring the motion.

Somewhere after the second shot, Louis notices that Harry and George have disappeared off the dance floor. He takes another shot, and barely notices the way Josh is leaning into him. By the end of the shots that Josh ordered (it's five or maybe six, Louis has no fucking clue which), they're basically slumped against each other and miserable.

"It's fucking ridiculous," Louis tries to say, waving a hand around to illustrate his point. "Like, I don't even mind that Harry doesn't want to fuck me. It's the fact that he's such a, a. _Flirt_ about it. Leave me to wallow in peace, you know?"

"George will cuddle _anything_ ," Josh moans. His face is kind of buried in Louis' collarbone, so Louis feels the words more than he hears them. "I'm on the same level as a _guitar_."

Explaining how what they're doing shifts from bitching about their incredibly hot (and incredibly asexual) bandmates to making out is a little difficult, but the answer probably lies somewhere around the point at which Josh looks up at Louis and Louis suddenly thinks _holy shit he's gorgeous_. And okay, Louis may not be as free with his kisses as Harry (there is _nobody_ as free with their kisses as Harry), he'll admit to kissing pretty much anyone that he finds attractive and willing. Josh blinks, and Louis presses their lips together because he can.

The quiet noise that Josh makes, something like a sigh, startles Louis. He'd expected anything between to be angry and a little hurt, but this is soft and featherlight. Louis licks his way into Josh's mouth and _fuck_. He doesn't even care about Harry or George or anything but getting Josh to whimper that softly again. He's the one that whines when Josh pulls away, though, fumbling with his phone and peering at it. Josh laughs, hollow in a way that Louis is a little too familiar with, and shakes his head.

"I've been kicked out of my hotel room," he says, pocketing his phone again. "Our bandmates have apparently taken a liking to each other and they're . . . whatever it is that asexuals do when they hook up. What _do_ they do when they hook up?"

Louis shrugs. "I don't know. Probably stay up and watch crappy romcoms. D'ya want to come to mine?"

He doesn't really mean to say it, but it'd be shitty to take it back after it's been said, so he lets it sit anyway. Josh blinks, and then smiles. It isn't the sort of plasticky and fake smile that Louis can now recognize a mile away, the kind that they use in photoshoots and fan interaction, no. It's an _actual_ smile, blinding in its sincerity, and Louis almost cracks a joke to deflect away from it. He doesn't, though.

"Sure," Josh says. He seems like he's trying for casual, but he's failing miserably. Louis almost tells him that, but there's something intensely refreshing about the fact that Josh hasn't exactly been tainted by the weight of fame and Louis refuses to spoil it.

They catch a cab instead, and although Louis' hand is resting awfully high on Josh's leg, they don't get up to anything in the car. They don't get up to anything until Louis' front door is locked and he's pressing Josh against it.

Logically, there's a bedroom and a bed and it'd be far more comfortable, but Louis just wants Josh pressed against him like this - wants to swallow all his noises and twist his fingers in the stupidly tight t-shirt he's got on. Seconds stretch into minutes stretch into the point where kissing almost _hurts_ because it's hard to remember to breathe and then Josh pulls away. Their breathing is heavy in the quiet of the apartment, in and out and in again.

" _Fuck_ ," Josh says, reverent. "Fuck, okay. Bedroom, because you have one and this is going to suck in the morning otherwise."

There's nothing Louis can say to counter that, because he's done the bathroom stall thing on his knees and yeah. Yeah, it really does suck so he tugs Josh toward his bedroom and manages to divest him of his jacket and t-shirt by the time they get there. He's lost his shirt on the way too, and seriously this is not anything like what Louis would have expected.

Stumbling into his bed, there's an awkward moment where they're both twisting out of their pants and underwear, but then they're naked and there's literally nothing to complain about. Louis suspects that they're both too drunk for anything more coordinated than handjobs, so he's surprised when Josh makes his way down the line of his body with featherlight kisses before swallowing down around him.

Josh has a hand on him too, and it's just _good_ in a way that Louis can't really describe. Perfectly, exactly what he needs and _shit_. He gets that George isn't into this but he's honestly missing out. Josh's mouth is fucking fantastic, and Louis chokes off a moan. This is. He can't. _Fuck_.

Hands searching for purchase, Louis crumples his sheets in his hands and tries to not, like. Come immediately. It's possible that this is only as good as it is because he's drunk, but it doesn't really matter in the end because all too quickly Louis is choking out _gonna_ and Josh just sinks down further. He swallows, when Louis comes and blanks out for a moment. The next thing Louis is aware of is Josh kissing him, mouth tinged with the peculiar flavor of come.

Louis manages to wrap a hand around Josh, too sated and loose-limbed for anything fancier than a twist on the upstroke. Luckily, Josh doesn't seem to mind that much. He's just as vocal as he was at the party, and Louis thinks that maybe he shouldn't want to keep all those noises for himself but oh how he does. He's never claimed to be anything other than a little possessive, and he wants to maybe crawl inside Josh and curl his fingers around Josh's heart so no one else can have it.

Maybe that's a little extreme for someone he barely knows, but Louis has spent too much time around Harry to have any sort of perspective about love. He wants the taste of himself in Josh's mouth, wants every unbidden noise that Josh makes. He wants the way that Josh shakes apart with a quiet _fuck_ , and he gets it.

In the space afterward, the quiet where their breathing seems too loud (in and out and in again), Louis touches their foreheads together for a moment before kissing Josh gently. There's . . . Maybe they should clean up, get under the sheets, but fuck that noise. Louis doesn't want to move, doesn't want the tiny bubble they've created to burst.

(He wouldn't feel different even if he knew that it doesn't ever burst, not really.)


End file.
